


The Long Road

by weethreequarter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Developing Friendships, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Injuries, Parent Steve Rogers, Parent Tony Stark, Past Military Homophobia, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Step-parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 06:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18987124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weethreequarter/pseuds/weethreequarter
Summary: The changeover between COs was always a period of uncertainty for any unit. Wondering what the new guy would be like, and hoping they wouldn’t be some fresh out of basic Lieutenant who thought they knew it all. But when your previous CO left after getting shot while on the toilet, the only way was up, right?At least, that was what the members of 1st Battalion, 107th Regiment - nicknamed the Howling Commandos - hoped when they lined up to meet Captain Steven G Rogers for the first time.





	The Long Road

**Author's Note:**

> So this just sort of happened. I wanted to practise writing oneshots, because I tend to get inspiration for continuing stories, and rarely manage to do oneshots. Or if I do they turn into a series. So here's a standalone. 
> 
> It's set in 2012, so the repeal of DADT is fairly recent, and the Howlies are still uncertain what this will mean. 
> 
> I don't even know what this is, but I wrote it, so here it is.
> 
> I have no military background so any errors are on me. Sorry.

The changeover between COs was always a period of uncertainty for any unit. Wondering what the new guy would be like, and hoping they wouldn’t be some fresh out of basic Lieutenant who thought they knew it all. But when your previous CO left after getting shot while on the toilet, the only way was up, right?

At least, that was what the members of 1st Battalion, 107th Regiment - nicknamed the Howling Commandos - hoped when they lined up to meet Captain Steven G Rogers for the first time. 

Rogers was tall and blond, uniform impeccable and face unreadable as they fell in. Monty caught Dugan’s eye and gave a tiny shrug. It was best to go in with an open mind, but their last few COs wren’t exactly much to live up to. But Carter - Staff Sergeant, bad-ass, and the buffer between the NCOs and command - didn’t look too pissed off, so maybe Rogers wouldn’t be as bad as all that?

“Good morning,” Rogers called. “I’m happy to be the newest member of the regiment. My father served in this unit, so it’s an honour to serve amongst you all.”

Great. Military career man. Passing on the family mantle. That never boded well. 

“I don’t want to roll in here, new sheriff in town, and change everything before knowing how you work,” Rogers continued. “That’s not what I’m about. Over the next few weeks, I’ll get know you, and how you work, and you’ll get to know me and how I work. Hopefully those two things will be compatible.I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, but make no mistake, if you take advantage of that, you will regret it.

“Over the next few weeks, I’d like the opportunity to talk with each of you, individually, get to know you a little bit. It ’s only fair that if you’re putting your lives in my hands, that I know a little about the people I’m responsible for. That’s how I work. Are there any questions?”

No one spoke.

“Good. Dismissed.”

“That could’ve been worse,” Jones remarked as they headed for the mess. 

“I like him,” Dernier added.

“As long as he doesn’t get shot in shitter, he’s gotta be an improvement,” Dugan agreed.

X

Rogers was a marked improvement on previous COs, they decided over the next few months. An opinion which only strengthened when they were deployed to Afghanistan. 

Rogers never drew a line between them, marking himself out as an officer. He would wait until all of his men were fed and settled before taking care of himself. And he remembered every single one of their names. And the little bits of information about their lives they let slip around him, whether it was about someone’s daughter making the track team, or a painful break-up, or a new baby sleeping through the night at last. 

They liked him.

So it really sucked when he got himself blown up and sent home with a busted leg.

X

“I wonder how Rogers is doing?” Morita commented, swinging his duffle onto his back as they left the plane, finally touching American soil again after three long months of sand and IEDs.

“Yeah. Hey Carter,” Dugan called.

“What is it boys?” Carter asked, moving over to join them.

“Any word on Rogers?”

“He’s recovering. Got his leg in a cast that he’s bitching about, but otherwise he’s fine. Going crazy with being stuck at home, I think. You should visit him,” she suggested.

“Wouldn’t that be awkward?” Monty frowned.

Carter shrugged.

“He always asks about you. If you want I can give you his address. He’d be happy to see you’re all back in one piece. Well, almost one piece,” she added, glancing Dernier’s nose. They laughed at that, all except Dernier, who scowled at them and cursed them all in French. 

But then their families were there, in front of them instead of on a pixelated screen with a delay to their conversation, and they forgot about Captain Rogers.

X

Monty was going stir-crazy being back at home after being in a war zone twenty four seven. It was too quiet, and after swerving while driving under the third bridge this week, only to get honked at by the other drivers, he was pissed off too. So he grabbed his cell phone, firing off a text to Carter to ask for Rogers’ address, then sent a message on the Howlies group chat to arrange a visit the following afternoon. 

The rest of them must’ve been as fed up as he was.

They’d all agreed in less than five minutes.

Dum Dum even offered to drive.

X

“Jesus, this place is bum-fuck nowhere,” Dum Dum exclaimed as they finally turned off of the back road they’d been following for the past twenty minutes, only to find themselves on a driveway that stretched on, winding through the trees that prevented them from seeing any sign of a house.

“If we get murdered by an asshole in a hockey mask, we all blame Monty,” Morita called from the backseat.

“Kindly go fuck yourself,” Monty retorted, twisting in his seat to smile sweetly at him and receive the bird in return.

“If we get murdered in the woods by an asshole in a hockey mask, I think we should have our promotions revoked,” Jones added.

“Thank fuck!” Dum Dum exclaimed as a house finally came into view.

The sprawling wooden villa sat on the edge of a lake that reached to the verge of the horizon, a wrap around porch hugging it. Despite it’s size, it gave the impression of being homey.

Dum Dum killed the engine, and they all tumbled out of the car, groaning about various aches and pains and bitching just because they could. 

“This is nice,” Monty commented to cover up the fact that he suddenly felt nervous at the thought of seeing their CO while in civvies. Maybe they should’ve called first. The rest of them nodded and murmured their assent, clearly feeling the same way. 

It was Morita who took the lead towards the porch. They followed all, grateful that someone had made the first move. Jones nudged Monty; when he followed his gaze, Monty saw a small tent and a child’s size wooden chair sitting in the grass, a small red bike abandoned on its side a few feet behind.

Did Rogers have a kid? They didn’t know, Monty realised. Rogers had made such an effort to find out about all of them, that they’d forgotten how little they knew about him. Sure, he was their CO, so they weren’t going to go prying into his life, but they didn’t even know if the man was married.

Morita rang the bell, and a few seconds later they heard a familiar voice yell, “Hang on. I’m coming.”

The wait was just long enough for them to start feeling awkward again, when the door opened and Rogers was standing there, balancing on two crutches and dressed in jeans and flannel. Monty felt like he’d entered the Twilight Zone.

“Surprise!” Dum Dum called.

“Hey!” Rogers grinned. “What are you guys doing here?”

He didn’t look pissed to see them, which was a relief. 

“We wanted to know how you were doing, and Carter suggested we visit,” Dernier explained.

“Is now a good time?” Monty added, feeling like they should check, since they had just turned up on his doorstep with no warning, and technically he was their boss.

“Of course. Come on in, I’m just sitting on my ass,” Rogers hobbled backwards so they could step inside. “Watch your feet, we’ve got crap everywhere as usual.”

They navigated the shoes by the door, and more toys abandoned in a pile. Inside, the house cemented the view of money, but tastefully. Monty glanced into the kitchen as they shuffled to the left, towards the living area of the largely open-plan interior. Through a glass wall, he caught sight of an office, or maybe it was an actual library. Who had a library in their house? Apparently Rogers did.

“Sit down,” Rogers insisted, hopping on his crutches to the couch and lifting his broken leg onto a pillow on the coffee table. “It’s great to see you guys.”

They sat awkwardly, Morita, Jones and Dernier taking the other couch, while Dum Dum and Monty claimed the armchairs.

“I’m glad you’re all back,” Rogers continued. “Hey, what happened to the nose?” he asked Dernier.

They burst out laughing at that, while Dernier stuck his tongue out at them, effectively breaking the tension.

“I’m sensing a story,” Rogers grinned.

“Oh, it’s a good one,” Dum Dum replied, before his gaze drifted up. Monty followed, and spotted a girl, no more than four or five, sitting on the stairs. “Hi there, little lady,” Dum Dum called.

Rogers twisted awkwardly and smiled at the girl.

“Hey sweetie-pie,” he said. “You coming to say hi?”

The girl grinned, rumbling down the stairs and throwing herself over the back of the couch. She scrambled into Rogers’ lap, and they all winced internally when her boney knee jabbed him in the groin, but Rogers bore it with good grace.

“Can’t you sit like a normal person?” Rogers chuckled. “Wait, of course not, I forgot who your father is.”

She was cute, Monty thought, in the way children were. His nieces and nephews were all in England, so he’d never really had much contact with children, other than Dugan and Jones’ on Memorial Day or Fourth of July. Rogers’ hand smoothed down her dark hair. She didn’t really look like him, but not all children looked like their parents, Monty supposed. Maybe she took after Rogers’ wife, or maybe she was adopted.

“You gonna say hi, Morgan?”

“Hi Morgan,” the girl parroted, looking far too pleased with herself and earning an eye roll from Rogers.

“Oh, hey, I forgot to ask, did you guys want coffee? Tea?” Rogers offered.

“Steve’s not allowed in the kitchen,” Morgan announced before any of them could reply. “On the grounds of health and safety.”

“Thank you Morgan,” Rogers rolled his eyes again. “Don’t worry, my abilities stretch to turning on a coffee machine. You want anything?”

They put in their requests, and Monty wondered how Rogers was going to manage to carry five coffees while on crutches, but he immediately recruited Morgan into helping. When they returned, Morgan was carrying a tray with six mugs, a look of intense concentration on her face as she went round each of them and directed them to the correct mug. By the time they each had their drink, Monty was pretty sure they would all sell their should to protect Rogers’ daughter. Or, she’s called him Steve, hadn’t she? Maybe she wasn’t his daughter. Or maybe a foster child?

As they began regaining Rogers with the stories of their time in Afghanistan after his injury, Morgan’s eyes darted around them, until she suddenly declared, “Steve. Adults are boring.”

“Okay,” Rogers nodded.

“I’m going to play,” she added, before climbing over the back of the couch again and racing upstairs, her footsteps like thunder.

“Feral child,” Rogers sighed affectionately. “Sorry, Jones, you were saying.” 

“So, we are sitting in the mess,” Jones continued.

“I hate you all,” Dernier interrupted.

“Shut up, this is comedy gold,” Morita told him.

“And Dernier comes in and he looks like shit,” Dum Dum took over. 

“My hay fever medication ran out,” Dernier scowled. “It’s not my fault.”

“So we’re halfway through breakfast, having a perfectly normal conversation,” Monty explained, “When Dernier sneezes so loudly that they probably heard him in fucking Fallujah.”

“And this is a full body sneeze,” Jones added, demonstrating how Dernier’s body jerked.

“Unfortunately, he was sitting on the edge of the bench,” Dum Dum continued. “So when he sneezed, he fell off of the bench, smacking chin off the table, then slamming his nose into the bench.”

“Are you okay?” Rogers grinned.

“I am fine,” Dernier said.

“Then I don’t feel so bad about laughing.”

“I mean, shit, if we’d filmed that we could be famous!” Dum Dum added.

“You all suck,” Dernier declared.

Rogers’ phone buzzed against the coffee table; he wiped away the tears of laughter as he picked it up, quickly tapping at the screen.

“Hey, do you guys want to stay for dinner?” he offered. “Don’t worry, I’m not cooking unless you specifically want food poisoning.”

They glanced amongst each other, shrugging. Now that they’d settled in and were laughing and sharing stories, it wasn’t nearly so terrifying being around Rogers or being in his home.

“Sure,” Monty agreed.

“Awesome. Tony’s going to pick up Chinese on the way home,” Rogers said, concentrating on his phone as he typed.

And just like that, the awkwardness was back.

They glanced at each other.

Tony?

Sure, Tony could be a woman’s name, but the assumption was male. And it wasn’t that they were homophobic. Hell, if anything the opposite was true. A few years back, they had a member of the squad who they all knew was gay and tried to keep him from discharged as long as possible. But DADT had just been repealed. They’d never had anyone, and definitely not a CO, just casually drop the fact that they were gay into a conversation like that.

Monty shifted in his chair, and out of the corner of his eye, caught sight of a framed photo on the fireplace. It showed two men, one of them Rogers, leaning back against the other man’s chest, a protective arm wrapped over Rogers’ chest, holding him tight. The other man was older, dark hair and beard, and both of them were smiling, soft, loving smiles, and Monty realised that they were right. 

Rogers was gay.

How were they supposed to react to that?

They didn’t have long to find out. They changed the subject, showing Rogers the photos they’d taken both before and after his injury, and were less than halfway through when the door opened and the other man from the photo stuck his head in.

“Hey,” he called.

“Hey,” Rogers grinned.

“Morguna,” the man from the photo shouted. “Come help with dinner please.” When there was no reply, he added, “Morgan H Stark, dinner. Now.”

Morgan rumbled down the stairs again, and squealed, “Daddy!” as she threw herself into, presumably, Tony’s arms.

“Hi short stuff,” he groaned, then they disappeared outside. 

Rogers didn’t say anything or move, so they carried on showing him the photos, telling them about Nabil, their translator’s, children and family dramas. Monty glanced up when the door opened again, Tony and Morgan carrying bags of Chinese food into the kitchen. 

“Dinner in five,” Tony called, throwing his suit jacket onto the stairs.

“Alright. Well, it’s going to take me that long to get to the kitchen,” Rogers sighed, reaching for his crutches.

They followed him through to the kitchen, where Tony was in the middle of placing a mountain of Chinese containers across the centre of the table, while Morgan carefully placed a plate on each setting. She looked like Tony, Monty realised.

“I’ll tell you where to sit,” she announced to the Howlies.

“Just agree with her it’s easier,” Rogers added, easing himself into the chair at the head of the table and hooking a small stool with his crutch to prop up his leg.

“I blame Pepper,” Tony called.

“I blame both of you,” Rogers said. “The two most stubborn people in the world had a baby and I have deal with the fallout.”

Tony chuckled, leaning over Rogers’ shoulder with a bowl of rice before pressing a kiss to his temple.

“You love it.”

“I love Morgan,” Rogers corrected. “I tolerate you.”

“Tolerate, my ass.”

“And no talking about your ass in front of the kid. We’re trying to get her to eighteen without traumatising her.”

Monty was fairly certain that they would appreciate not talking about Tony’s ass either. They were trying really hard to be cool with this, and they were, it just wasn’t what they knew. He had a cousin who was gay, but they only kept in sparing contact through Facebook, and Jones’ sister married her long-time girlfriend last year. But they weren’t army. They weren’t their CO.

“Alright, dig in,” Tony announced as he sat down between Steve and Morgan. 

“Guys, this is Tony,” Rogers said.

“Hi,” Tony waved. “Okay, let’s see if I can do this. Jones. Dugan. Morita. Falsworth. And Dernier. How did I do?”

“Full marks,” Rogers smiled.

“What do you do, Tony?” Dum Dum asked politely.

“I’m head of R&D at Stark industries,” Tony replied. 

Wait. 

No.

No way. Rogers couldn’t be married or living with or whatever with Tony _Stark_. Could he? But he’d mentioned Pepper, seemingly in reference to Morgan’s mother, and Monty knew that Tony Stark had divorced Pepper Potts a few years ago, when their daughter was still a baby and handed over the company to his ex-wife.

“Most days I get to work from home, but very so often I have to go in and be bored to death by things like budget meetings and all that crap,” Tony continued. “Careful with the chilli sauce there, Morguna.”

“I like it,” Morgan declared.

“Okay, whatever, blow your head off,” Tony shrugged. “So how are you guys adjusting to being back?”

“We’re fine,” Morita lied.

“Really? Cause he was a mess,” Tony jerked his thumb towards Rogers. Monty glanced at their CO, wondering if he would be annoyed with Tony for revealing his problems like that to them. But Rogers just shrugged.

“I have a good therapist and a support system in place. Not everyone’s as lucky.”

Tony hummed his agreement.

It was… nice, Monty thought, as the meal progressed. Tony didn’t make any assumption about them, as people or as soldiers, and didn’t make any of the usual faux pas civilians made around them. And he never once thanked them for their service, which was a relief, because honestly, being thanked for their service was awkward as fuck. And as soon as they finished eating, he shooed them out onto the porch with coffee, waving off their offers of helping with the dishes. 

“That’s what I’ve got my glamorous assistant for,” he said, hoisting Morgan onto his hip and kissing her cheek. “You got sweet chilli sauce all over you, kid. Jeepers, you are a tragedy. What am I gonna do with you? I’ll have to throw you in the lake to clean you up.”

“Daddy, no,” Morgan laughed.

Clearly it was an old threat and one Morgan didn’t take seriously. 

“It’s a nice place you’ve got up here, Rogers,” Dum Dum said once they were outside. 

“Yeah. It was Tony’s but I kinda love it,” Rogers smiled.

“Even if it is in the ass-crack of knowhere,” Dum Dum added.

Rogers laughed.

“By the way, if you hear anything weird, we have a raccoon that lives under the porch. We were gonna get rid of it, but then Morgan found out, and then she named it Rocket, and now feed it, and it’s basically our pet,” he added.

“How long have you been together?” Monty asked, then worried he’d just put his foot in it.

But Rogers just smiled and replied, “Three years. We were friends before. But then Tony realised that it wasn’t working with Pepper, and that he wanted more with me. I’m lucky.”

“Does anyone… know? In the army?” Jones asked.

“Uh, Sergeant Carter knows. I went to school with her cousin, Peggy, uh, we dated for a while and we stayed in touch. I’ve known Sharon a long time, so she knows. And Phillips knows. But that’s it.”

“Do you want it kept secret?” Monty frowned.

“No. God, no,” Rogers exclaimed. “I love Tony so much, I wanna shout it from the rooftops.  But DADT’s just been repealed, and there’s a lot of people who disagree with that. I’m not hiding anything, but I’m not drawing attention to myself either. And that’s only because of Morgan. If it wasn’t for her, I’d fight every homophobe and bigot in the army. But she doesn’t deserve to be dragged into the spotlight like that.”

“Are you married?” Dernier asked.

“No. Not yet,” Rogers smiled. “We’ve talked about it. And it’s been implied that I should _not_ look at rings, because it may or may not be in hand.”

They fell into a comfortable conversation, drifting from their time in the service to families and friends, until the sound of the door made Rogers look up.

“Hey young lady,” he greeted Morgan, now in a pair of pyjamas. “What’re doing still up?”

And that was when Monty looked at his watch and realised they’d been there for nearly six hours, just chatting and laughing with their CO.

“Just thinking.”

“Whatcha thinking about?”

Morgan wandered over, leaning into Rogers’ side.

“Juice pops.”

“Juice pops, wow.”

“Can I have one? Please?”

“Go ask your dad,” Rogers patted her arm.

“Okay,” Morgan cried, running back inside. 

“Hey, Rogers, we should probably get going,” Dum Dum said. “it’s going to take us a while to get back to civilisation.”

“Oh yeah. Shit, is that the time?” Rogers said. He shuffled onto his crutches again. “Hey. Guys. Thanks for coming out here. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Jones replied.

“Yeah, it was fun,” Morita agreed.

“We got Chinese and got to fun of Dernier,” Monty grinned, ducking Dernier’s punch.

“Sir, can I throw them in your lake?” Dernier asked.

“Sure. Go ahead,” Rogers nodded. 

He hopped over to the edge of the porch as they moved towards the car. 

“Are you going to be coming back after you’re recovered?” Dum Dum asked.

“That’s the plan,” Rogers nodded.

Behind him, the door opened and Tony stepped out onto the porch, his hand settling on Rogers’ back. 

“Nice to meet you,” Monty called to him.

“You too,” Tony nodded. “Hey, come back in the summer, bring your families, we’ll have a cookout.”

“You can definitely throw them in the lake then,” Rogers said to Dernier.

“I like this plan,” Dernier called.

“See you soon, sir,” Morita called as they all piled into the car.

Rogers and Tony waved as Dum Dum reversed the car up the driveway, and Monty saw Tony place a small kiss against Rogers’ neck.

“So, Rogers is gay,” Jones said, once they were back on the road.

“And his husband or whatever is Tony Stark,” Morita added. 

So it wasn’t just him, Monty thought, it was Stark.

“Seems like a nice family though,” Dum Dum said.

“Yeah,” Monty agreed. “Cute kid.”

“Cute couple,” Dernier said. ‘Do you think Carter knows?”

They mulled it over, until Dum Dum shrugged and said, “Who cares?”

And, Monty realised, he didn’t care.

 

X

When Rogers returned two months later, with only a slight limp to show for his injury and a shiny new ring on his left hand, they didn't hesitate to congratulate him and welcome him back.

**Author's Note:**

> Bucky isn't in this because it's my headcanon that he doesn't actively choose to join the army. In this world, he's happily married and living in New York with his blind lawyer husband (because I am winterdevil trash) and constantly bitching to Steve over facetime.
> 
> Find me rambling on tumblr here: [weethreequarter](https://weethreequarter.tumblr.com)  
> 


End file.
